


Fais dodo, t'auras du lolo

by pengiesama



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Lullabies, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sickfic, precocious crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pengiesama/pseuds/pengiesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in bed with the flu, Jamie ponders the involvement of ancient Mezoamerican gods and crushes on Jack. Also, Jack sings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fais dodo, t'auras du lolo

The thing about being blessed with more snow days than any kid in the history of ever was that karma had to keep up somehow. At least that’s how Jamie had rationalized the lingering sickness that had kept him inside these past few days, listening jealously to the happy shouts of snowball fights just outside his window. His mother had quarantined him to his bedroom, which made Jamie suspicious of her intentions; a brief consultation of his books and laptop had mostly assured him that he did not have the Black Plague. Mostly.

The order for lights-out came when his search for knowledge had led him to pages on “Aztec karmic gods”. Sophie broke quarantine by charging in to his bedroom when his mom came in tuck him in; she deposited a note that roughly read “FEAL BETR JAMEE LOV SOPHIE”, accompanied by a carefully-rendered scribble of Sophie herself dancing with a giant rabbit. She was captured and carried out of the room for disinfecting procedures, yelling “ahh-choo! Ahhh-choo!” all the while.

The door clicked shut. Jamie curled under his blankets, in no little misery. He hoped he hadn’t made the Aztec gods angry. They seemed really hard to apologize to, and Jamie didn’t have any goats to sacrifice; nor did he really want to do so. Maybe if he left a hot dog out for them they’d be happy.

Another handful of tissues, another noseful of snot. He cast a quick glance at his open window, which had remained undisturbed these past few days. Worry gnawed at Jamie’s stomach, but deep down, he knew that Jack could kick the butt of any of those stinky old gods. The thought of it lulled Jamie into slumber; into strange, fitful dreams of Jack carrying him out of an ancient dark temple, monster-headed creatures fleeing into the darkness behind, and then taking him out for hot dogs.

He’d just gotten to the really good part of the dream (him and Jack, eating the hot dogs like those dogs did with spaghetti in that movie) when a soft, cool hand pressed itself to his forehead. Jamie blinked open his eyes, hazily grasping at Jack’s wrist.

“Yikes,” Jack said softly, sitting down on the bed next to Jamie. “I haven’t seen you outside in a while, so I figured you might have come down with something. Guess I was right?”

Jamie nodded miserably, curling up into a ball against Jack’s side and pressing his face into his hoodie. The heat from his fever melted the pretty patterns that Jack had made on the fabric. Jamie tried to croak out an apology through his sore throat, but Jack shushed him and pressed his hand to Jamie’s forehead again. The hand smoothed back into Jamie’s hair, fingers combing gently. Jamie shut his eyes and let his mind drift, reveling in how wonderful the touch felt.

“Looks like this is going around with a lot of kids in town. Hopefully Sophie didn’t catch it too?”

Jamie shook his head, brow furrowing slightly. He hadn’t seen Jack in days; why was he talking about Sophie and the other kids? He loved his little sister a lot, but she had the Easter Bunny to play with. Jack was _his_ special awesome friend.

Jamie peeked open one eye to look up at Jack. His hair always seemed to glow at night; like it was giving off moonbeams. Jack grinned at him, and his eyes were blue, really _really_ blue, bluer than the sky or the water or anything else Jamie had seen anywhere, ever.

Jamie plopped his head on Jack’s lap, burying his face in his thigh, and scrubbed at the redness in his cheeks.

“Jack,” he asked, softly, mindful of his sore throat; but needing to ask, regardless. “Have you ever had to fight with any Aztec gods?”

Jack shook his head. “Before my time, sorry to say. I could ask the others, if you’re curious.”

Jamie nodded absently. Anyone else he knew would’ve laughed at him, told him that those things were imaginary, called him a stupid baby. Jack wouldn’t, and didn’t.

He must’ve dozed off again, because when he next looked up, Jack was paging through one of his school textbooks. (He held it using a blanket, so his frost didn’t melt all over the pages – boy, was Jamie’s teacher angry that first time.)

“‘Early Burgess settlers in the 1600s and 1700s’. Geez, if you told me you were studying this, I could’ve sat down for an interview.”

Jamie had considered it, certainly. Had even asked his teacher for permission – she’d rolled her eyes and continued to grade their tests, but Jamie had taken to considering that all the permission he was going to get for any of his projects. He swallowed, trying to clear out his throat.

“…founded in the mid- seventeenth century, the main export of Burgess was…the fur trade,” Jamie started.

Jack’s lips quirked into a smile. “True. But my family herded sheep. Gave me plenty of free time in the winter when there was no grazing to be done, and I could wrestle and shear one faster than anyone in the village.”

Jamie’s heart swelled with pride. Those Aztec gods better not try to wrestle Jack if they knew what was good for them.

“Initial population numbered at 4,500 settlers…”

Jack whistled a little. “Can’t say that I ever counted, but I’ll say sure.”

“…founded deep within French territory, most settlers were of French descent…”

“Yep. My family had been there for a while, though. Think it was my grandparents that originally sailed over.”

That really caught Jamie’s attention. He’d heard people talking in French before in some of his mom’s movies, and it sounded so pretty. Maybe, just maybe…

“Do you…remember any? French?” Jamie asked, softly.

Jack laughed. “The magic weather spirit gig came included with a built-in automatic translator, so I haven’t had the chance to practice over the years.”

Jamie felt abashed. Jack was over three hundred years old; of course he wouldn’t remember some things. And yet he was still being nice enough to answer Jamie’s silly questions for his dumb report. Jamie grasped helplessly for another question to ask, anything else, but a thought seemed to dawn on Jack.

“I do remember a lullaby my mother used to sing to us,” he said, eyes somewhere distant. He blinked the thought away, and smiled again. “If I sing it to you, will you promise to get a good night’s sleep and come out ready for a few laps down the sledding hill tomorrow?”

That sounded wonderful. Amazing. Wondermazingful. Jamie nodded eagerly, and could almost feel his immune system jumping into overdrive to hold up its end of the deal.

Jack waited for Jamie to curl up more comfortably on his lap, and began to sing, soft and low.

" _À la claire fontaine, m’en allant promener,_

_J’ai trouvé l’eau si belle que je m’y suis baigné._

_Il y a longtemps que je t’aime, jamais je ne t’oublierai…_ ”

Jamie tried to fight off sleep, but he could feel his mind drifting away as Jack sang. French was so pretty. Jack’s voice was so pretty. Jamie would learn French and someday, someday, when he was big enough and old enough, Jack would lay his head on Jamie’s lap after they’d gotten hot dogs and Jamie would sing the very same song to him.

Half-lost to the golden sand of a dream of the very same, Jamie didn’t register the song ending, nor did he feel Jack ease out from under him and get him tucked back into bed. Luckily, he still was awake enough to feel the cool, soft kiss pressed to his forehead. Jamie sighed, his hands curling into his blankets.

“Fais dodo, mon p’tit.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah Jamie chase the dream of growing up and fucking the hot babysitter
> 
> re: Jack being French, the location of Burgess on the map shown in the movie places it in what was mostly French territory in the 17th/18th century. So there you go. ([Here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PGG_fep9og)'s a link to the song, by the way. The title is a lyric from another French lullaby.)


End file.
